Page:Madame Butterfly; Purple eyes; A gentleman of Japan and a lady; Kito; Glory (1904).djvu/200

 He asked nothing more, but was very gentle to her. All through the great funeral he was at her side. And if he was not, she was frightened and found him hastily. They went about hand in hand. She liked this. It was infinitely comforting. If he did not take her hand (sometimes he would pretend to forget it) she would slip it into his with a shy smile that had heaven in it to Kito.

And this went on after the funeral, in their walks abroad.

"Without your hand," she would say, "I am lost—brother."

"Without yours I die, sister," he would answer.

Kito himself charged the nostrils of his dead benefactor with the scented vermilion, and covered the patrician face with the funeral paint, whispering beatitudes the while to the departed spirit. They might as well have been whispered to Owannon, who sat with bowed head at his side; for they were for the living and not for the dead. And when the final rite was performed he left her at her door, saying:

"Good night, sister. In the morning I will come."

And she answered: